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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777345">Helexese Sunrise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/pseuds/Iron'>Iron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:20:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/pseuds/Iron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Velocity meets a femme at <i>Swerve’s</i>. They go home together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thunderclash/Rodimus (mentioned), Velocity/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Helexese Sunrise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a>GunmetalGold on Twitter!</a>. Join me on <a>Twitter</a> too!”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Velocity normally doesn’t notice the mechs who come and go from the Lost Light, using it to hop a spaceport or dozen on their way to better things. She likes to talk to them, learn about where they came from and where they’re going, who they’re going with. It’s part of why she became a medic - she loves people. Their stories are a part of them as much as their frames, and she loves listening to both. </p><p>The pretty femme at the bar is more than just another mech to wheedle a story out of; she’s huge, for one, big enough to make something hot rush up Velocity’s spine. She swirls her energon in her glass, the multicolored layer of her Kaonite Sunrise muddling together into some indiscernible red-purple color, shining deep inside with bits of selenium. Not the worst of Swerve’s cocktails, but the sour mix leaves a gritty feeling on her glossa that she doesn't like. She nudges the cup aside and shifts towards the pretty femme, enough engex burning through her systems to make talking to her seem like a good idea. </p><p>Swerve’s dim moonlighting brings out the purples and dusky blues of the femme’s paint job, and the tilt of her helm makes her straight, narrow gold visor shine. Something hot tightens in Velocity’s chest when the femme tilts her helm, warmth suffusing through her field to welcome more of her attention. </p><p> Thunderclash pats her shoulder. “Are you going to talk to her?” He's a terrible drinking partner.</p><p>“And abandon you to your moping over the captain?” She turns her helm towards him, a wicked grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. It's not the first time they've had this conversation. </p><p>“I’m sure I could watch Rodimus dance on my own. You should go enjoy yourself; you rarely take the opportunity to do so.” He takes a careful sip of his lurid orange drink, optics wandering back towards the dance floor. He hasn’t been able to look away for long. Lottie thinks he’s ridiculous. </p><p>She’s not wrong, really - he is ridiculous. He also wants her to be better off than he is, and he nudges her closer to the big femme. “You know, you don’t need to push me off on every mech you think I’ll be interested in.” </p><p>“I don’t need to, but I do want you to be happy.” </p><p>Lottie groans, helm dropping briefly to the countertop. She lifts it to look at the femme in question when Thunderclash orders the handsome flier a Helix Crystal, the pretty shot of blue engex gliding across the counter. “Tell her it’s from my femme friend of the same color.” </p><p>Bluestreak rolls his optics. “Sure.” </p><p>They all turn to watch the femme pinch the shot between two of her massive fingers - she must be of a size with Thunderclash, or perhaps even larger - and glance down the counter at them. Thunderclash raises a hand above Lottie’s helm, pointing down at her helm. <i>Ask her to dance</i>, he mouths, optics bright. </p><p>The femme glances between him and a flush-faced Lottie, and nods. “You bought me a drink?” </p><p>Lottie sighs. “No. My friend bought you a drink. But I wouldn’t say no to finishing off mine with you?” </p><p>The femme’s grin is sharp and just a little bit too big, and Lottie feels a shiver run up her spine. </p><p>This night is shaping up to get her more than just a story. </p><p>— </p><p>Fingers drag over Velocity’s chest as she’s urged back into her hab, Dawn sinking denta into the side of her neck. <i>She tastes like sweet things</i>, Dawn thinks, glossa lathing over wax-scented plating. The little medic arches into her touch, claws digging into the white points on her chest and <i>clinging</i>. There’s a subtle strength in her frame, dragging Dawn down and back into her room. She was modified to allow her to haul mechs far larger than she is around hospitals. One very eager Prime is nothing to her. </p><p>The little medic’s room is small, but well-appointed, and just off the medbay. It’s easy for Dawn to follow her into it, pushing her onto that oh-so-welcoming berth. The femme falls back on the berth padding, knees bent against the mattress and arms outspread, and she’s beautiful in her burgeoning pleasure. Dawn leans over her, drinking in the flush of her cheeks and the bright gleam of her optics. Her mouth is wet with their mixed oral fluids and bruised from the force of their kisses, Dawn’s denta marks already blooming deep purple on the soft mesh of her mouth. </p><p>Delicious. </p><p>She leans down, taking her mouth once more as Velocity arches up against her chest. “Spike or valve?” </p><p>Lottie laughs. “Just jumping right on into it, aren’t you? </p><p>“I like to get misunderstandings out of the way first.” She nips at the edge of the pretty medic’s jaw, feeling her hips buck up into her abdomen. “I want you to want me just as much as I want you, after all.” </p><p>“Not a hard thing to get,” Lottie admits. “You’re ver-<i>ah</i>-ry good this!” Her chin tips upwards as Dawn slides her fingers into the gap between her hip and waist joints. The flat pads of her fingers smooth over rarely-touched and well-oiled metal, playing along sensor nodes scarcely stimulated by more than the brush of oiled metal against oiled metal. She pushes into the touch, then pulls away, like she can’t quite reconcile the way Dawn’s gentle touches feel. </p><p>“Yes, yes I am. Now, pretty thing, do you want me to ride your little spike, or do you want me to spike you?” </p><p>“It’s unfair that you’re making me <i>choose</i> like this, you know.” She’s whining, hips finally pushing into her hands. Dawn can feel her array heating up through the metal of her hips; she must be soaked in her own fluids by now. </p><p>Slicked up and mouth swollen, vents blasting, splayed back against her berth, she looks like a wanting thing. Dawn wants to <i>eat</i> her. She presses down on the femme’s front, pressing open-mouthed kisses up her chest until she can lick her way into the femme’s pretty mouth again. </p><p>Her cute little medic’s glossa is clumsy as she tries to reciprocate the kiss, lips slack, and when Dawn pulls away there’s a string of oral fluids still connecting their mouths. It breaks when she licks her lips. “So?” </p><p>“Whichever one will have you fragging me soonest!” </p><p>Dawn can’t help the laughter that burbles out of her. She wraps her hands around Lottie’s hips and tugs her down on the berth, bringing her pelvic span closer to her own. “You’ve got to open up for that, pretty thing.”  </p><p>And she does, fast enough to nearly catch Dawn’s fingers in her shifting seams. Lubricants spill out and onto the berth, gleaming and silvery, spike extending to lay across her belly and arousal-thickened valve lips pushing out past the edges of her array. Dawn arches her back, sneaking her hand between their frames to fondle that utterly delicious spike. <i>Oh, yes, I will be riding this sweet little thing tonight.</i> It’s hot to the touch, a good handful of heavy protoform featuring thick ridges and a heavy nob near the base, perfect for tugging at the sensor-rich rim of a mech’s valve. Dawn taps the weeping tip with her thumb as Lottie arches desperately into her hand, hips shoving up into her tight grip. </p><p>Dawn lets her go before those desperate, erratic thrusts can do more than bring her to the teetering edge of orgasm, laughing. “So sweet, so pretty,” she croons. “I can’t wait to feel that pretty thing inside me.” </p><p>Velocity shudders under her touch, lubricants pooling on the berth. Dawn circles the bottom edges of her array curiously. The lips of her valve are hot to the touch, soaking wet with her own fluids and so arouses that they spill over the edges of her array. Her node is a pretty, blinking orange light that pokes out from the folds of mesh around it, a proud little thing that looks like it wants to be a spike as much as her actual spike is. Dawn circles with the pad of her thumb, enjoy the way Lottie’s thighs try to close around her hand and forearm to grind against it. It’s hot and slick and makes Dawn’s spike grow thick and heavy with arousal. </p><p>She lets her panel slide aside. Her spike, thickly ridged and with a heft to it that leaves it resting low against Lottie's hip,  throbs with arousal. She pulls her hand away from the medic's pretty valve to hitch those thick Racer's thighs over her forearms, leaning forward until her knees are pointed at the sky and her hips tipped towards Dawn. Lottie reaches between her thighs to palm the Prime's spike. "Big girl." </p><p>"All the better to make you scream with." Dawn rocks her hips forward, the heavy head of her spike kissing Velocity's weeping entrance. A globule of lubricants drools from the bottom crease of it as her calipers clench at the thought of finally having something inside her. </p><p>Dawn watches, enraptured, before nudging forward again. Her spike presses against that firght tight ring of calipers, Lottie's fat valve lips swallowing her up. The tip of her spike spreads them, and then she's pushing into hot, wet, clenching heat. </p><p>Dawn has Velocity almost bent in half, spike spreading her calipers to the point they can’t even start cycling down on her. She’s so much bigger than the colony femme, big enough that even with her spike shoved deep in her tight little valve she can lean over her and press their mouths together. Lottie moans, chest thrusting up as she tries to press closer, vents slats open and cycling air to their fullest capacity. She can feel the pretty Camien’s mouth paints smearing across their faces as their kisses grow more fervent. </p><p>The segments of her cape tap against her wings as she drives her spike into the femme in measured, long strokes, feeling the way the medic shudders and comes apart under the force and size of her. The hatches over her data cables ache to open, to let the wires unspool and wrap around the pretty femme at her mercy, to plug into matching ports and shove enough data into her to make her arch and <i>scream</i> from the pleasure of it. </p><p>She can’t. Next time, perhaps, if they have time to do this again while she’s on board. She moves one hand from the femme’s hip and slides it between their frames, palm towards Lottie’s pelvis as she presses the pads of two of her fingers to the top of her valve. Hot, wet mesh squelches as she seeks out her hard little nub, and the femme arches and screams into her mouth when she finds it. A hand slaps against Dawn’s cheek as femme arches in overload. She breaks their kiss, mouth cooling almost immediately as she turns her helm and takes two of those shaking, curving fingers into her mouth. </p><p>The noise Lottie makes is <i>divine</i>, like Dawn had taken her spark in mouth instead. Her shirt, sharp claws dig into Dawn’s glossa, droplets of energon welling up and being swept away just as quickly. </p><p>Dawn had heard about the sensitivity of the medic’s hands, carefully tuned to detect even the slightest change in pressure, heat, and texture, and she intends to take full advantage of the fact. The medic whines as Dawn lathes her fingers over the soft pads of her fingers, suckling them. She rocks her hips slowly. The medic must be over-sensitive by now, coming off of an overload like she is, frame still jerking with every little thrust of Dawn’s hips. Light’s gathered in the corner of her optics, spilling out, pleasure turning to pain. </p><p>Dawn slows to a slow, wet grind. Every press of her hips to Velocity’s array rubs the hard edge of her pelvic span against her soft valve and the hard nub of her node. </p><p>The medic sobs as she overloads again, topping over some edge that Dawn couldn’t see. It’s the sight of her there, wrung out and soaked in pleasure, that does it. Falling over that edge is like feeling the knot in her belly loosen, hot pleasure racing up her spine with each spurt of transfluid her spike releases into Velocity’s valve. </p><p>The hot wash of fluids right up against the femme’s intake line and ceiling node sends Lottie toppling over that edge again, lining and calipers rippling around Dawn’s quickly softening spike. She presses a kiss to the soft, slack shape of it, carefully pulling her spike from the sopping wet confines of her valve. </p><p>Lottie moans as Dawn’s fluids spill out of her, pooling on the berth beneath her aft. It’s wet, and a little gross, and Dawn slithers down her frame to prop those powerful thighs on her shoulders and buries her face in that already sensitive valve. </p><p>Lottie’s hips jump as Dawn thrusts her glossa into her sopping cunt and suckles the fluids from her valve. She tastes herself, tastes Lottie's arousal, drinks it down until it’s hot in her belly. She wraps her lips around her hard little nub and <i>sucks</i> until the femme’s thighs are squeezing her helm half to bursting and Lottie is desperately pulling away from the barrage of sensations, then shoving her hips forward when the pleasure inevitably swept away by the cool air that rushed between Dawn’s mouth and her sopping cunt. </p><p>Finally, she’s licked and suckled and tongued away every trace of herself from Velocity’s valve, and she wraps her hand around the femme’s spike and palms it. Her thumb passes over the rounded head, playing with the pretty piercing there, and Velocity overloads with a scream from both parts of her array. Transfluid splatters against her helm, across the top of her shoulders and her treads, valve lubricants welling up against her open mouth and spilling down her chin. </p><p>Dawn gives her valve a few gentle, parting kisses as she sits up and wipes the back of her mouth. She can still taste the medic, even when she leans back and licks her lips. She lets her legs fall from her shoulders and back onto the berth as she shimmies backward until the femme is laid out limp and lovely and in a puddle of her fluids. Dawn just stares, fans whining and plating puffed out to let the heat dissipate from her frame. She feels like several of her internals are on the verge of melting; the femme made her run <i>hot</i>. “You alright, pretty thing?” </p><p>“... I think there might be something melted in my chest, but wow was it worth it.” She wiggles her hips, feeling the way the overloads tripped the sensors all along her spine and numbed her pelvic unit. </p><p>Dawn laughs, flopping down onto her back next to the femme. Like this she dwarfs her, the little medic forced to curl into her side as the berth dips under her weight. She’s still warm, though rapidly cooling, and Dawn lets her systems wind down in response. “We should do this again sometime, sweet thing.” </p><p>Velocity sighs, engine shifting down, and nuzzles into Dawn’s chest plates. “We should. The next time you cross paths with the Lost Light.” </p><p>Dawn hums, optics powering down. “The next time.”</p>
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